By Grace
by GogoYubari69
Summary: Solace is found in unexpected places. I'm thinking this is going to be pretty long and twisty, just like an intestine. First few chapters are kinda meh. It gets better, though.
1. And It Came To Pass

**Author's note**: It should be obvious that I don't own Harry Potter; otherwise this would be a new book in the series, wouldn't it?

A great many things had come to pass in the life of one Ginny Weasley. In her life, she had brushed with death, witnessed the fall of a regiment of evil, and ensnared somebody who was, in her own opinion, far above her. Perhaps, recently, the playing fields were leveled, as she had helped bring down the aforementioned regiment alongside him. At the very least she must have provided morale to those in a more front-line position.

A direct result of this conquest was that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry was made secure, as it had been in the past. A side effect of this was that a chunk of the faculty was dead, including the legendary wizard Albus Dumbledore. The positions were filled in theory, but in practice, it was debatable whether or not the new staff could match its predecessors.

Another hot topic of discussion was whether or not the new 7th years could match the heroism of the newly graduated army of saviors. Of course, the battle was won, and to fill the shoes left would be out of question for many students. However, having been licked by the fire of war, Ginny would be considered one of those veterans. But was it a title to hold in pride? Was the prestige, the fame, the _worship_ something to relish?

Ginny had a time of quiet reflection during her summer vacation. The ending of the sabbatical was neigh, and the flurry & thunder of her last year at Hogwarts with it. The new school supply list had come in, so she ventured out to go on her final shopping trip for Hogwarts. She had chosen to go alone, as attempting to go out as a family would be useless without her brother.

Her first stop was Madame Malkin's. She had just entered the familiar place when a witch spotted her.

"I know you!" she gleefully exclaimed. "I saw you in the _Prophet! You _fought with Harry Potter!" The witch squeaked with delight.

"Yes. I did." Ginny offered a small smile to the witch.

"Trudy! Look who I just saw! It's Harry Potter's girlfriend!" The witch hysterically shouted out. A dead silence entered the shop.

No less than two seconds later, all patrons made a scramble to Ginny. Every eye in the shop lay upon her. A rather squat little witch bulldozed through the speculators. "'Swhat's this I hear? Lemme 'ave a look at 'er. I reckon that 'Arry Pottah'd 'ave some beau'y queen on 'is arm." the little plump witch squawked.

Meanwhile, there was an endless melody of questions from the mob that surrounded her. They all seemed to follow the same vein, mainly inquires about her boyfriend.

"Where's Harry? Why aren't you with him? I swear to fucking GOD, if you're cheating on him, I will fucking KILL YOU." a small 13-year old girl ominously said to her. Ginny was about to open her mouth, but the ceaseless stream overpowed her.

"I heard Harry just broke the wand and strangled You Know Who with his bare hands." A wild-eyed little boy remarked.

"Have you and Harry done it yet? If so, how big is he?"

"Can you just thank Harry for me?"

"Could you ask him to sign something for me please? Oh, I don't have anything with me. Wait, I have my socks! If you'd just kindly wait as I remove my shoe…"

It went on & on. Finally, Ginny just turned on her heel and began to push through the crowds towards the exit. As she left, she heard the fat witch exclaim "Blimey! 'Arry's lost it! 'E coulda got a giwl with some tits at the least!" Ginny made sure as she left that her foot firmly impacted on this unpleasant humans.

Every shop she went, every street she turned on to, it was more of the same. More ridiculous questions. More ridiculous people, who ranged from the inappropriate to the downright hateful. More offensive commentary hurled at her. Finally, she decided she'd just tell her mother it was too difficult to be seen in public. As she made her way home, out of the corner of her eye she spotted a rather withered and downcast, yet still well-groomed and polished figure dressed to the nines in an elegant black suit. She craned her neck around, as the sight seemed familiar.

The figure followed in like fashion to lock icy gray eyes with her. It was Draco Malfoy. He shot a look back at her. She hurriedly put her head down and went about her way with increased speed.

When she was finally home, it began to sink in to her how different life was going to be now that she was a major celebrity. Her final year at Hogwarts would be completely unlike her previous years. But she was up to the challenge. It was bound to die down eventually. After all, Harry made it through school with his fame, and he fared well. She hadn't seen him in a while. It was time to owl him. She needed to talk to the one person who could understand this chaos and make her feel happy….


	2. No Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note: THIS WAS A BITCH TO WRITE. **But I love the direction the plot's going to go. Bare with me, gentle reader!

The existence of Hell has been a heavily-contested debate for the ages. Some would have it that Hell is a ceaseless fire populated with demons to punish you for sins after life. Some say you reap what you sow and that every one of your merits and demerits is accounted for and comes back to you intensified. Yet more still say there's no personal Hell.

Draco Malfoy was personally in Hell.

The family Malfoy put on an impressive performance at the feast commemorating Lord Voldemort's defeat, but it was well known to all they had been crippled. With nearly of the Death Eaters dead or in prison, the masses of the wizarding world oozed with extreme admiration of Dumbledore's army. The fearful respect of the families that supported them was replaced with jeering, childish taunts by the general populace. A growing sector was religiously devoted to DA, and held a solid convection that all of Voldemort's supporters deserved to die.

These fanatics worried Narcissa Malfoy. She had experienced such fear that she would lose those she held dear already. She didn't need anyone to take any senseless risks going out in this turbulent social climate, not especially her little boy.

"Mother. I'm fine. I'll be fine. I'm an adult." Draco insisted. He may have been Narcissa's little boy, but he certainly didn't have any features to suggest that. He had a lithe, pale body, tall and slender. The heavy stress from the war emaciated his already waif-like form further. His prominent, sharp face was highlighted further. Much like his aunt Bellatrix, his appearance was ravaged by the Great War. He had bags under his eyes, prematurely aging him. He most certainly was still highly attractive, but he had the look of unhealthy.

"It doesn't matter how 'adult' you think you are, Draco. Do you know what'll happen if those maniacs see Lucius' Malfoy's boy out? They'll…" Narcissa's motherly consternation was cut off by her trailing thoughts of what horror may befall him.

"I'm only going to Borgin & Burkes. I'm going to see what's happened to our allies. It's for the sake of this family." Draco wearily replied. In all truth, he just wanted to get out of Malfoy Manner. He wanted to see a familiar face. He wanted to at least _feel_ some reaffirmation that there was an iota of normalcy left.

"Draco, it's not safe out there! Are you even paying attention to the news? Why just two days ago, Vincent Crabbe went to Borgin & Burkes, and someone was there, saying the most horrible things about his son. It wa-"Draco brashly began to walk out of the room, enraged he didn't enjoy being reminded of his deceased friends, especially not Crabbe. These insensitivities further strengthened his resolve to get out of the house.

"Draco. Draco! DRACO!" Narcissa called out to him, to no avail. He was already gone. It wasn't so much he didn't know how dangerous it was. It was more so he didn't care. Life had taken a drastic downward spiral. So little of his former life remained. He wanted to feel just a little reminder that things would pan out, and this chaos would subside.

He stood in the fireplace, floo powder tightly in fist. He haughtily threw it down with the command of "Nocturn Alley". He stood, expecting the familiar green flames to carry him away. Instead, the flames merely crackled put as soon as they were formed. Maybe he just wasn't clear enough.

"NOCTURN ALLEY." Draco didn't have time for these menial idiosyncrasies. He threw the powder down harshly. The flames leapt, and then died, just as previous.

Draco, not wanting to tarry more than he had to, set on his foot. He'd just walk. It wasn't that far. He wasn't one to hoof it, being _a teensy bit spoiled_, but he had no alternatives.

Unfortunately, he had to step on the enemy territory of Diagon Alley to get to Nocturn. As soon as he did, the crowds ceased all activity, and locked a cruel gaze on him. A flapping of a bird's wings could be heard at that moment.

He returned all the stares, taking in the mutual hatred. Murmurs abounded. One bold wizard spoke up and said "I hope you drop dead. You and all your lot!" This was followed with utterances of agreement from the crowd. Draco said nothing, He was too consumed with repressing the urges of violence. He eventually made it to Nocturn, eyes tracking him all the way there.

Here the attitude was a little different. People were happy to see him as they could be; given the circumstances they were in. Some offered him small smiles, although he was in no mood to return them. A general air of sadness and worry lingered about.

He got to the dark, aged facade of Borgin & Burkes, and noticed the windows were completely covered. Not once in his life did he ever remember Borgin not greeting him or his father with the fearful adulation their reputations demanded. He walked up to the door and noticed a decree posted:

NOTICE:

The Ministry of Magic is posting a reward for any who can supply information on the whereabouts of one Aeneas Borgin, and all employees of this shop. Additionally, if anyone is found in possession of a Dark object, purchased here or otherwise, the offender will be brought to trial and fined. 

Kingsly Shacklebolt

Draco's heart dropped to his stomach. He had no real personal connection to Borgin aside from business, but it was difficult to read this. Another part of life gone. He'd probably never see Borgin again. The little hope Draco had subsided. He was feeling more and more helpless every passing day.

He started back on the trip home, walking as fast as he could to avoid more harassment. He noticed that most shops on Nocturn had received cease & desists, and that several Ministry employees were in others, examining items and interrogating shopkeepers.

He dreaded passing through Diagon again. As he approached, he readied himself for the barrage that was to come. Curiously, not a soul noticed him. They were all giddy about spotting Harry Potter's girlfriend.

"It's so exciting! I will have a sock autographed by Harry himself!" A rather chipper wizard was telling his companion.

Draco had turned his head toward the source of the crowd. He saw them following a short, freckled girl with blazingly intense red hair. _Potter's whore, _Draco thought. _Spending his money, enjoying her war spoils._ He had to muster a lot of inner strength not to slap her in the face. Stupid cunt didn't do ANYTHING but cheerlead for Harry.

She noticed his glare. Draco held it, wishing he could express how much he'd love to see her and her boyfriend dead, her father at the hands of a dementor, her mother giving blowjobs for a handful of Knuts to feed her little bastards. She apparently sensed these thoughts because she put her head down, breaking eye contact.

Draco desperately wanted to antagonize her, ruin her gleeful parade. He thought against it, realizing he'd end up in Azkaban. And that wasn't worth it, not for Potter's whore.

Draco went home, feeling that flameless Hell more than ever.


	3. New Wineskins

**Author's Note: Dear readers! It doesn't matter if you love or you hate this story, I need reviews! Even if you can find absolutely nothing positive! And I fooking hate these Ginny-only chapters. Waaaaiiit for it.**

The summer faded away quietly into the annuals of Ginny's life. Summer, the great stronghold of all youth. Responsibility shucked. Idle squandering embraced. Frantic bouts of nonsensical joy anticipated. Meaningless teenage love, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing, bitter sweetly experienced. Summer, once a great stronghold, now faded through Ginny. Summer as she knew it was dead and she really didn't care.

If summer was for youth, then summer had nothing for Ginny anymore. Too many deaths, too much sorrow stole her youth away. When she was younger, she would spend her holiday in the company of her brothers and friends, enjoying life with vigor. Not enough vigor, as she had taken them as a given. Only after they were gone forever did she realize they were precious treasures.

Another element of summer was bonding with Harry. The teenage…love, was it?…was unhindered by school. She never had to owl him, he stayed at her house! Sadly, this was another thing that changed. All she could do was owl, to no avail. Every day, she'd hope for a response than never came.

She was going to give it one final try. Tomorrow, she would board Platform 9 ¾ for the last time. The thoughts of the coming school year filled her with anxiety. Simply stepping out in public brought on paparazzi. Surely Harry was experiencing that tenfold. _He probably can't write me back for security reasons, _Ginny thought. That made perfect sense. There were probably a couple of Death Eaters who were set on revenge out for him. Her family received several anonymous letters, filled with vile insults and threats of vengeance. She hoped someone would put these people in prison. She had just had an encounter with one not too long before. Sure it was just Draco, but knowing him he was probably part of some nefarious plot.

_Dear Harry,_

_How've you been? I know you might not be able to get this right now. Some people are acting really weird and scary out there. I worry about you! Tomorrow I start school again. Write me soon as you can!_

_Love,_

_Ginny_

She stuck the letter in the envelope and tied it to her owl's leg. The owl spread its magnificent wingspan into the night air, and disappeared into the dark horizon. Ginny had run out of things to say in her correspondence a long while ago. She climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling. This was something new in her life. She'd gaze above for 2-3 hours until she'd go to sleep. She'd be greeted by a flashback of someone dying. No matter if it was a Death Eater or someone in Dumbledore's Army, she'd wake up in night sweats and tears. She wondered why she wasn't dead herself.

Morning broke gloriously, just as it always seemed to on this day these past seven years. Ginny no longer marveled at its splendor. All it meant was more paparazzi. This time she wouldn't be able to go home and hide, she'd be stuck in a classroom with them. Maybe even some of the teachers would be as dense as the students.

She made her way to the Weasley kitchen. There were no happy chattering brothers today.

Molly and Arthur scarcely spoke to her these days. Normally, Ginny would try to make conversation with them. Today, she just quietly ate, taking up as much time as possible. If she dawdled long enough, they'd hurry to the platform more.

The ride was cold and silent. The morning may be beautiful, but it was like 50 dementors were with the Weasleys that day. She slipped away from them as quickly as possible. She really didn't want to have to hear any uncomfortable goodbyes, and she certainly didn't want to see any tears. She had seen enough in the past year to last a lifetime.

She walked through the platform with her head held low. As expected, all conversation shifted to her. The usual "Where's Harry?" and the "TELL HARRY I SAID HI!" exploded from the lower years. Ginny kept pushing her way through the crowd. She desperately sought out someone from her year. She found a Ravenclaw girl she had said hello to a few times. Better than nothing.

Ginny offered a smile to her. The girl grinned ecstatically and screeched "Ginny!" She ran over to her and threw her arms around in a hug.

"Ginny, you must tell me everything! Did Harry really use Avada Kedavra?"

Life was a massive unpleasantry.

Ginny just walked away, ignoring the feverish cries of her admirers. She found a secluded compartment in the train. She pulled her cloak up over her eyes. _I shouldn't be surprised, _she thought as she held back tears. She sat in a quivering lump the entire journey. Thankfully, she wasn't noticed. Her mates were carelessly talking about idle things.

Finally, the great crimson train was at the docks. Ginny slowly rose, feeling the sticky tracks of tears down her face. Her flaming hair was mussed. She couldn't bear to hear them call her name again. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and quickly found a nice, unoccupied boat. Nausea rose in her throat as it glided over Hogwarts Lake. She was filled with worry. The uncertain horrors of her new situation fully hit her. What if it never stopped? What if there was no one she could talk to? What happens if some Slytherin decides to take revenge?

The boat finally arrived at the docks. The year had finally begun. Her eyes were greeted by the familiar sight of Ruebus Hagrid. "Seventh years, this way! All you lot come this way!" the giant boomed. As Ginny passed, he gave her a wink and a smile. She feebly returned it.

Ginny walked through the endless labyrinth of corridors to the brilliant Great Hall. She had managed to evade further attention to this point. She could no longer hide and would have to put on a happy face for dinner conversation. She took her seat at the Gryffyndor table. She had came equipped with her standard answers.

"No, me and Harry aren't getting married."

"No, Harry used _magic _to kill Voldemort."

"Yes, Harry's fine."

"No I do NOT know how Harry's 'lower wand' is. But I'll be sure to tell him you asked, Klaus."

The cycle of frippery ended with a stern voice. "Attention. The feast will begin momentarily, but first I have a few announcements to make." The new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall proclaimed. Ginny was impressed that there was finally competence in a Hogwarts' hiring move.

"First and foremostly, I want to express the utmost gratitude for the heroic acts of bravery that Hogwarts witnessed this previous year. Many of your fellow students laid down their lives for yours." Her voice hiccupped as she delivered these words. "Some of our brave warriors are in this school at this very moment. I ask you treat them with the dignity they deserve." McGonagall's eyes hovered on Ginny. "You will also get the chance to see more of these heroes this time next week. Hogwarts will be holding a feast in their honor." She smiled broadly at those words.

Ginny silently cursed her life. It was as if at times, the universe conspired for her misery.


	4. Old Wineskins

**Author's Note: **So I was listening to "Judas" by Lady Gaga about seventy times today, and it infused me with creative juices. Eat the fruits thereof. Longest chapter ever, btw.

Ginny's seventh year at Hogwarts so far was going just like she had expected. The lower years asked rude and prodding questions of her. Her year behaved likewise. It was a miserable chore to sit in class and _try_ to concentrate on the coursework. Her classmates stared and gossiped amongst themselves in her ear shot, even if they didn't have the kindest sentiments to share. Ginny was feeling more and more like a sideshow freak. She had expected this kind of treatment, but she didn't expect how much it stung.

Another unexpected thing was the new faculty. They were as bad as the students. Their attitudes towards her ranged from the patronizing to the reverent. Most of the more experienced faculty, however, treated her with equality. It was a kind gesture, but did little to improve her situation. _Most_, however, was not all.

Ginny sat down in the old, drafty dungeon where Hogwarts students used to take Potions under the teaching of Severus Snape. Since he had died, Horace Slughorn had resumed his old post. Ginny wondered how it would be now that the Potions Master she was used to was gone.

Slughorn strode into the dark room, beaming. "Hello and welcome to the last year of Potions, dear students!" he said enthusiastically. Slughorn was a bit of a narcissist, and came off as a smidgen insincere. "Before me, I have two of the houses that I think have been affected most by this recent war. Firstly, I'd like to address my own house, Slytherin. I only wish to express my deepest condolences to all of you. I know that many of you have lost those very dear to you, maybe even your own parents. I knew many of them and I'm grieving along with you"

Ginny felt a splash of steaming anger hit her. Slytherin was a house of undeniable villainy. Why was he lauding these dead killers?

"I'd very much like to congratulate our Gryffyndor friends, on the flip side. Some of you helped bring down a truly monstrous regime." He continued with a small smile.

Ginny's rage intensified after hearing him deliver these seemingly contradictory statements. _He can't support Slytherin if he was against Voldemort!_ She thought in indignation. She glanced over at the side of the dungeon the opposing house had claimed. There were many genuinely broken looking faces. Slytherin had lost its bite, somewhat. Many of its students were in mourning for a deceased friend or family member. Ginny couldn't help but think it's what they deserved.

"We've got one of those helpers in here with us now!" Slughorn grinned as he approached Ginny. "My, my, my! To have fought against Voldemort!" He looked down on her with love and approval. The Slytherins gazed on her with a look of murderous blood thirst.

"Maybe more amazing yet," Slughorn began again with a mischievous grin, "Is to be in an affair with Harry Potter." Ginny was speechless.

"You know, I find it most interesting that you bear an uncanny resemblance to his mother Lily. Maybe that's where the attraction lies, eh?" He gave her a nasty wink. The Slytherins were doubled over in peals of laughter.

Ginny took off from her desk and ran as quickly as she could out of the dungeon, the sounds of the Slytherins' schadenfreude roaring behind her. She didn't want to go to the stupid reunion. But she had no other choice. There was the chance that Harry might be there, and he was the only one who could make her feel better….

Outside castle walls, a quiet storm was brewing in Malfoy manor. A foreign owl had unexpectedly swooped in nearby a window, and was fervently clawing at it and screeching. Draco opened the window curiously. The owl deposited a letter at Draco's feet. It bore the familiar Hogwarts letterhead on the envelope. It was addressed to "Mr. Draco Malfoy". He opened the letter.

_Dear Draco,_

_How are you? I was just recently talking to your father about you. I know you and your family are going through a rough time, but I had the most marvelous idea! How would you like to attend a little Hogwarts reunion? I know your fellow Slytherins would appreciate it greatly. It's going to be held in the Great Hall on Friday at 6:30 PM. Hope to see you there!_

_Your Friend,_

_Horace Slughorn_

Draco was happy for the opportunity to get out of the house, as Narcissa was keeping a rather tight leash on him. He was happy to get to see his friends.

Above all, he was happy to see the bastards that had put him in this position.

He'd had a miserable several months. Every day was another worry. How were the Malfoys going to maintain their money? Were any of the numerous death threats actually going to be carried out? There was no good news anymore. He thought of Dumbledore's Army drunkenly bumbling around like the merry idiots they were, bragging about their conquests. He entertained deliciously evil thoughts. He was going to ruin this for them. He was going to find Potter and tell him exactly what an egotistical ass he was. He was going to regale him with all the stories he had heard about his little blood-traitor girlfriend taking two cocks in the same hole in the Gryffyndor common room.

This was the first glimmer of joy he had in a very long while, and he was going to make it extravagant. He had shed many tears during many sleepless nights. They needed to cry now.

Draco filled his mind with fantasy. How could he inflict the most chaos? _I could punch Potter in the face, _he thought. _But it wouldn't leave a big enough mark on everyone._

_Mark._

Draco hastily rolled up his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark, a symbol of more prosperous days. He ran his fingers over the contours of the image. Just because the Dark Lord was dead didn't mean the spell wouldn't work.

One little spell was all it would take to set off a chain of events.


	5. The Mark Of The Beast

**Author's note: Erm. Well. Certainly has been awhile, has it not? :D I'm back with a new mission to make this mutha better to read. Also, it behooves you if you review. Constructively, por favor. Don't just say "OmG UR A FAG0T wheres tah nudez?" Please say, "You're a sophomoric dolt! Where's my erotica? I'm bone dry!" instead.**

Time has the infamous property of being very relative. During precious moments, time washes away like a flash flood, carrying those moments like an uprooted tree away from you. During a drab moment, time turns into a slow pouring of molasses. Time never turns into drab molasses quite like when you're expecting something exciting.

And Draco hadn't expected such an exciting moment as what would happen tonight.

He was going to let everybody know that he wasn't going to kneel down and take his defeat. He was going to give them a bit of the same kind of intrusive misery they'd been giving him all these weeks.

He ran a finger down the instrument of his vengeance. The area where it lay looked as faded and decrepit as the mark itself. Trails of stark blue veins ran into the bend of his elbow, which had gotten quite sharp. His appearance was a perfect match to the current state of so many respected and feared pure-blood wizarding families, a sad testimony to better days.

Gaunt and frail as he looked, he was still powerfully attractive. He was dressed to fit the occasion in his finest, crisp black suit. An elegant ring on a delicate, withered hand demonstrated he still could afford nicer things than any of the victors.

He had the plan perfectly concocted in his mind. He'd disappear into Slughorn's office for a few congenial words, and then he'd sneak out to cast the Mark over Hogwarts. Naturally, this would take place after he'd given all his favorite people a warm welcome.

He'd ask Weasley how well the family was supporting itself after one of the owners of that ridiculous joke shop died, and the other made disabled. He'd tell St. Mungo's to commit Lovegood. He'd ask Longbottom if he'd seen Mummy and Daddy lately. He'd ask Granger if Mudbloods had gotten any more sexually desirable since the war. He'd be sure to tell Potter what a shame it was that he _still _wasn't dead after all that time. His heart palpitated in joy at these fantasies.

Yes, the reunion was much anticipated by Draco. His anticipation, however, was being matched by someone else miles away…

Ginny bounced around nervously in her dormitory. The reunion feast was scheduled to start shortly, and she began to doubt if Harry was going to show up at all. After all, it would be a terrible waste of a rather attractive girl. She had dressed in a rather short strapless cocktail gown that left little to the imagination. Even though it was a horrible thing to say, she had to admit: Her involvement in the Great War lead her to be able to have things she wouldn't normally have. She'd been getting into more money than she'd ever had in her life recently.

Besides the fan mail, and Ron & George siphoning a little money from Weasley Wizard Wheezes her way, Arthur had gotten a considerable raise from the Ministry. Her family really was on the way up. It was just a pity that it took such horror to achieve.

While the war had influenced Ginny's style considerably, the same couldn't be said for a trusted friend of hers, Luna Lovegood. Luna was dressed in a neon purple toga with swirling patterns of green, black, and magenta. Ginny reckoned she looked like one of those pictures where if you oriented your head the right way, you saw a moving image that the Muggles loved so much. Luna really hadn't been affected by recent events, which made Ginny value her friendship all the more.

Ginny paced around the dorm, which she had strewn with clothes in search of the perfect thing to wear. Luna was sitting on the bed, looking through Ginny's mail.

"I never get letters like you!" Luna exclaimed in her surprised, yet banal tone.

"Well, you should be thankful. I know they mean well, but they don't really know me, so it gets kind of annoying after a bit." remarked Ginny, plopping beside her.

Luna's eyes were scanning a letter she had opened. "This fellow seems really nice!" Luna beamed at the parchment.

"It's not that they aren't nice," Ginny continued. "It's that I don't really deserve it as much as other people do. I really feel like that they ought to direct this attention towards Harry." She smiled brightly at her words.

"You deserve it just as much as Harry does. And I don't think I would feel the same way about people sending those kinds of letters to Neville."

"What?" Ginny asked, puzzled. Luna handed her the letter. Ginny hastily opened the envelope.

_My sweet Ginerva,_

_I've finally worked up the courage to confess my feelings towards you. I can't help but think we really belong together. I might not be as famous or as good looking as Harry, but I'd do things to you that he could only dream of. I'd kiss those delicious lips of yours, then I'd work my way down your neck, to your heaving sweater puppies, to your navel, until my tongue was inside your—_

The rest of the letter was obscured by two rather large white splotches.

Ginny shrieked in horror and dropped the defiled parchment. She had never felt so revolted in her life. She immediately made plans to send this eager gentleman a howler, but as she feverishly searched the envelope, there was no return address.

"How are you and Harry?" asked Luna thoughtfully, breaking the tension.

Ginny sighed deeply. "I haven't actually heard from him. I figure that he probably can't send mail, knowing how crazy things have been lately."

"Yes, that must be it. Or he's been killed." Luna matter of factly stated.

Ginny didn't say anything else. That thought had lingered at the back of her mind constantly. Harry just didn't seem like the type to just drop communication, though. Surely it was security.

The faithful hour finally approached. Ginny had been waiting and waiting for this day, but now, as it was about to happen, she had some apprehension. She imagined seeing Harry would be awkward after not hearing from him for such a long time. Still, she desperately craved seeing him.

Ginny and Luna made their way down the staircases. The inviting fragrance of food greeted them as they walked, getting stronger the further they descended. The halls were bathed in a jubilant, golden light. Ginny never recalled seeing Hogwarts so festive.

When they reached the Great Hall, Ginny's eyes marveled at its beauty. The tables were gone, which Ginny figured was to be able to fit the mass amounts of people gathered. Some of them she recognized as Ministry officials. Others wore badges denoting them as journalists from The Daily Prophet. The attendees were all coated from the glowing lights of the walls & ceiling, which had been enchanted to look like solid gold. Radiant white sparklers sprung out from the walls. Jets of mead bubbled out from pearl fountains. The décor tonight made the Yule Ball look trashy.

She was just breathing in the scenery when she heard a familiar, very comforting voice. "Ginny!" Hermione Granger immediately stuffed her in her arms before Ginny could respond. "We've missed you so much! We've just been so busy we couldn't reply!"

The girls pulled out of their embrace. Ginny saw the other half of the "we" Hermione was referring to. It was her brother, Ron. Glad as she was to see him, it still hurt to look into his eyes. They both knew what the other was thinking: Fred was gone. Ron smiled a weary smile at her. "I really missed you two!" Ginny said, in the happiest tone she could muster while the look he was giving her made tears well up in her eyes.

"Ginny, you look amazing!" Hermione gushed as she looked her up and down.

Ron didn't respond in kind. He instead looked Ginny up and down reproachfully. "Come on, Ginny. You look like a total slag in that dress." He said resignedly. No later did the words come out when Hermione popped him upside the head with the back of her hand. "RON! Don't listen to him Ginny, you look so gorgeous."

Ginny flushed. "Thanks! Have you seen Harry here?" As glad as she was to see her brother and one of her best friends, Harry was still her main focus.

"We were just looking for him!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Well, I'll meet back with you when I find him!"

"Alright. Good to see you!" Hermione escorted Ron off as she waved goodbye to Ginny.

Ginny scanned through the crowds in frenzy. Every tall male with dark hair might be him. She was becoming discouraged that he wasn't here at all. Why wasn't he looking for her? As she searched, she ran into a curly-haired, prim blonde.

The blonde woman whipped around, looking severe. "EXCUSE ME? YOU RUDE LITTLE—My dear girl!" The woman grinned ear to ear. "What a thrill to be here with a celebrated warrior!" She clasped a hand with blood red nails on Ginny's shoulder. "Oh, I'm so honored to be—Rico, camera—with Ginny Weasley!" The woman pulled Ginny in very close as an armada of photographers took shots from every angle.

"Who are you?" Ginny cried out.

"Oh, how RUDE!" The woman exclaimed. "I'm Rita Skeeter! I'm head columnist for the _Prophet_!" she looked extremely satisfied with herself. "I was wondering if I could have a little word with you!"

"Erm, sure, I suppose." Ginny nervously replied.

Rita walked her away from the crowd a bit. "Now, dear" her voice quieted down. "I want you to tell me exactly what it was like when Harry killed You-Know-Who in your own words."

"I don't know. I wasn't there."

"Oh. Well, why don't you tell me just what's going on between you and Harry Potter?" Rita gave a devilish smirk. A levitating quill floated beside her.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable talking about that." Ginny wasn't going to risk making Harry mad divulging their personal business.

"Ah. I see." Rita replied smartly. The quill was scribbling furiously, even though Ginny had said very little. "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you around then." She smiled and walked off, firmly clutching the parchment the quill had been writing on.

Ginny was worried about that strange witch ambushing her with questions, but she quickly shrugged it away. She was more worried about seeing Harry. This evening wasn't proceeding well at all. Tonight was full of confusion and stress. She couldn't be tenser…

Draco couldn't have been more relaxed as Slughorn poured him another glass of firewhiskey. "My dear boy, it's too good to see you well after all this nonsense!" Slughorn proclaimed jovially. He poured himself a glass and sat on the couch beside Draco. "You fared so well, considering the state your father was in when I saw him…" Slughorn's voice trailed off.

"We're doing absolutely fine. I have no idea what people are talking about when they say we're in a crisis." Draco pointedly stated as he sipped his drink.

"Well, seeing as how other wizarding families have been declining lately, it's no wonder they talk! Rudolphus Lestrange is inconsolable from what I hear. I haven't heard a peep from the Goyles, and don't get me started on the Crabbes…" Slughorn shook his head.

Draco didn't appreciate the reference to his dear friend or his aunt. "Either way, we haven't been letting these idiots get to us." He indignantly replied.

"Of course the Malfoys aren't! Your father was always quite unshakable. Why, he was a prefect in his day! And Narcissa was very bright, personal favorite of mine…" Slughorn seemed to become lost in a dear memory.

Draco had quite enough of Slughorn's reminiscing. He figured he'd given everyone enough time to arrive. The mark would make its impression felt shortly. He smilled and arose from the couch.

"Do excuse me for a moment, Professor." He said cooly. Draco didn't give him a moment to reply as he slipped out of Slughorn's office. He made his way onto the grounds. The night was very clear, the sky filled to the brim with silver stars. He rolled up his sleeve. The time for his revenge was at hand…

Ginny had looked and looked. She was devastated. Harry wasn't here. She had counted down the days to this supposedly joyous occasion. She had ensured she looked her best tonight. Her attempts were for nothing. He apparently cared nothing about her.

Tears were filling her brown eyes. She sunk down on a sofa, her head held in her hands. All she wanted to do was see her boyfriend. "Ginny!" She could practically hear him call out to her.

"Ginny!" There it was again. It sounded so real…

"Ginny!" It had gotten even closer. She looked up.

Harry was wearing a massive grin on his face. "Ginny, I've missed you!"

Ginny hadn't been so happy in a long time. She locked him in a tight embrace. She was never going to let him go again, not after such a terrible absence. Tonight couldn't be better.

A wizard busted in, mouth gaped open. "THE MARK! MARK IS UP!" A huge gasp fell over the crowd.

Ginny immediately realized what this meant. _This isn't happening, _she thought. _He's not back…_It was like she was trapped in a nightmare.

She was trapped in Draco's wildest dream.


	6. Bringer Of Light

**Author's Note: A NEW CHAPTER! YUH NIGGA! And do you know what made me want to write it? Muthafuckin' **_Twilight. _**And if you muthafuckas can read muthafuckin' **_Twilight, _**you can read & review this. I'm pretty sure it doesn't suck as bad.**

The vapor hung high in the Great Hall, giving a sickly green glow to the incandescent walls. Ginny felt the pigment drain from her face as she gazed upon the smoky skull. She couldn't believe it was happening again. They hadn't really defeated him.

People were apparating away left and right. Ginny gripped her wand tightly in her hand. She prepared to use it in a way she'd hoped she never would have to again. Soon, the bystanders and the press had cleared out. No one was left but a few ministry aurors, and Dumbledore's Army.

"We've got to find them!" Ginny cried out.

The very real possibility that the Death Eaters had become a legitimate threat once again hovered on everyone's consciousness collectively. "SEARCH THE CASTLE!" an auror's voice boomed. Ginny clutched onto Harry's arm. She couldn't bear leaving his side again. She wouldn't let him disappear after he just came back into her life.

A din exploded through the castle as they searched. The odds were the perpetrator had already fled the scene, but that didn't stop Ginny's feverish efforts. Her hands jittered badly as she ripped open cabinet doors. Her heels pounded the stone floors as she sprinted around. The atmosphere was, understandably, hectic, but even with that said, she received quite a few concerned looks from the hunting party.

"Ginny…" Hermione wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders. "It probably isn't anything to worry about at all. Someone's just trying to get attention." Hermione said hopefully, as if by speaking the words she made it so.

Ginny laid her head on Hermione's shoulder. She tried to stifle her tears. She _hated_ whoever did this. If it was just some fool playing a prank, it made it worse. If that was the case, her evening would be ruined in vain.

"Come on," Harry's determined voice broke the silence. "We haven't checked any of the upper floors! Stay together!"

Ginny smiled despite her tears. _Leader_, she thought. That one word summed up Harry to her. Without his bravery, Voldemort's reign of evil would be oppressing the wizarding community, and her & the entire Weasley family would be dead. He was more than her boyfriend. He was her savior.

Her will strengthened, she followed Harry out to the stairwell, the others trailing behind her. The stairwell was still beautifully illuminated for the evening's festivities. No evidence of anything sinister was present. In fact, it looked downright angelic.

Her eyes scanned the marvelous décor. The portraits were all vacant. Their occupants had fled from the commotion. It was so peaceful in the pale, golden light, like Heaven. The radiance beamed on their faces. Despite the celestial aura, Ginny didn't let herself forget it was all a façade. A demon lurked somewhere among these angels.

As they walked, Ginny continued searching. She noticed that the stair railing was covered with a fur of some sort, the color of a snow leopard. _All this decoration. For nothing. _She thought bitterly. Even though Voldemort's supporters could be on the rise once more, the idea central to her mind was that she had been robbed of what was supposed to be a wonderful evening. No matter how she tried to smooth out her life, this damned war would always jut out and ruin everything.

Speaking of jutting out, Ginny noticed the furs on the staircase segued off into another color. Another texture. The gentle, fluffy gray had segued into smooth, pale blonde. A material that set off a spark in Ginny's memory.

She seized this fabric in her fist and yanked upwards hard, like she was uprooting a writhing little mandrake. What she pulled up was a writhing little man named Draco Malfoy.

"YOU ABSOLUTE BASTARD!" Ginny screamed in his ear. No sooner had she uttered these words as bony white hands squeezed her little neck. Draco tackled her to the ground. She easily rolled him underneath her.

"Ahhhhh!" Ginny released a strangled war cry from her throat as she grabbed handfuls of his hair. She used them like reins to drive his skull into the stone floors repeatedly. Draco squirmed and squirmed, but was unable to throw her off.

His vision flickered as his head slammed to and fro. Ginny began punching him in the face, studding his visage with pink indentations from her knuckles. She struck his nose, and he felt his own blood drain down his throat before he blacked out.

Regrettably (in Ginny's opinion) the orgy of violence was stopped abruptly when two large aurors lifted her off bloody, crumpled Draco. "That…that was fucking brilliant. I've wanted to do that for so many years." Ron said as he grinned ear to ear. Ginny swore she saw a tear drop down his cheek.

"W-why didn't anyone help me?" Ginny struggled to speak as she regained her breath.  
"It looked like you had a firm grip on things. We didn't want to stand in the way of your heroism." George flashed her a cheeky grin. She grinned back at him; she hadn't seen that bright smile in what felt like a decade.

"So what do we plan to do with this wanker?" A gruff auror spoke up.

"Azkaban," Ron immediately said. A broken giggle erupted through the crowd, but it stopped when Ron shot a look that communicated he was quite serious.

"It's tempting," Harry interjected. "But I think it would be better if we kept him for a little while, let him know that he won't be doing this again." Harry smirked wickedly.

"I really don't know," said Luna, seemingly out of nowhere. "His parents are still alive, and so are some other Death Eaters. We might be killed." She stated in her unwaveringly calm manner.

"It's not likely anything's going to happen. If the Malfoys try to retaliate in any way, they'll be put in Azkaban." remarked Hermione. Ginny had never heard Hermione advocate any kind of mischief in her life. Truly, this was a cause for celebration.

"Well, that settles it. Boy's yours." An auror said.

Ginny couldn't believe their luck. They practically had LEGAL rights to torture Malfoy. The evening did turn out to be something special after all. She was proud of herself. She had brought joy to her family, if only temporarily. She was sure Harry was more than pleased with her performance tonight. Above all, she felt invigorated. Silvery, blonde hairs were stuck all over her. Sticky, fragrant blood was smeared on her fingers. Suddenly, she got an impulse.

Nonchalantly, she brushed her red locks back, making sure she passed a finger below her nostrils. She inhaled the deep, dirty aroma. She felt so crazy…yet so fulfilled, so electrified, so excited all over her body. It was like she had vanquished her worries with those blows on Draco. She had brought back old schoolyard memories of their rivalry. He was simply an arrogant Slytherin, swaggering amongst honest Gryffyndors. He was no longer working for the side of evil, and she was no longer a hero fighting for the righteous cause. It was just like old times. She relished the thoughts of what other comforts the night had in store.

In retrospect, maybe she bit off a little bit more than she could chew.


End file.
